


We Oft Might Win

by Saucery



Series: Hartwin Stories [21]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Age Difference, Almost porn, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Eggsy, Cross-Generation Relationship, Denial, Domestic Bliss, Eggsy Pretending To Be Pissed Off About A Situation That Secretly Delights Him, Established Relationship, Except For How I'm Not, Family, Ficlet, Fight Sex, Fighting Kink, Fights, Flirting, Fluff, I'm Sorry, Implied Mpreg, Kids, M/M, Marriage, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Sex, Martial Arts, May/December Relationship, Omega Verse, Power Play, References to Knotting, Romance, Sassy, Short, Slice of Life, Snark, Sparring, Spies & Secret Agents, Strength Kink, Teasing, Top Harry, Unfulfilled Switching Promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6632509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saucery/pseuds/Saucery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is set in a world where all people are Betas by default, and it is only during mating season that they take on Alpha or Omega characteristics. Which characteristics they take on during any particular heat is decided by entering into combat with their chosen partner, in which the “victor” presents as an Alpha and the “loser” (or rather, co-winner) presents as an Omega.</p><p>Harry and Eggsy are a married couple, and it is mating season once again...</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Oft Might Win

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acearorey](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=acearorey).



> Inspired by [this](http://saucefactory.tumblr.com/post/143262530431/acearorey-submitted-im-not-the-only-one-whose) Tumblr post.
> 
> The title is from Shakespeare’s _Measure For Measure_.

* * *

 

“One,” Eggsy panted, pulling himself up from the mat. “One more round.”

Harry smiled. “You’re growing wet. Give in.”

“Nah.” Eggsy glared. “This time, I get to knot you. We’ve been together for six fucking years. You’re practically geriatric.”

“Why, thank you,” Harry said dryly.

“I should be able to win.”

“Ability and hope are different things.”

“Being a prick and being an Alpha are different things.”

“Are they?”

“We have two children,” Eggsy said, almost accusingly. “You’re getting pregnant this time around. Let’s see you deal with morning sickness and craving chocolate nachos at three a.m. _Chocolate nachos_ , Harry.”

“Indeed, I distinctly remember you demanding I buy you at least five packets of cheese-flavored nachos and a large jar of Nutella.”

“Don’t remind me.” Eggsy geared up for a fresh attack. “Again,” he insisted, and ran toward Harry full-tilt.

They clashed in a loud thump of bodies, sweaty flesh against sweaty flesh, Harry’s gi long since yanked out of true and Eggsy’s half-off, exposing his chest. They grappled, grunting, Harry’s forearms cording with muscle as they _pushed_ , and the soles of Eggsy’s bare feet burning with friction as they braced against the mat, only to yield an inch… and another. And another.

Eggsy swore. His proximity to Harry—and Harry’s familiar, tempting, jungle-humid scent—was threatening to make him present before he wanted to. Harry was right; Eggsy was getting wet. Meanwhile, Harry’s scent was a patient, steady thickening of musk, as if he knew he would win, that he would have Eggsy belly-down on the mat and spread open for him, that he’d have his knot in Eggsy within the hour and that Eggsy would be begging for it when it happened.

Eggsy couldn’t even resent Harry for not letting him win, and not just because of his ego; a false victory wouldn’t result in sparking an Omega’s fertile period, nor would it result in an Alpha becoming capable of a knot. They were biological Betas until this fight was concluded. Theoretically. And the lengthier the fight was, the more intense the mating was. Also theoretically.

Harry was, as always, an excellent teacher when it came to the application of theory. Fifteen minutes later, Harry slammed Eggsy onto the mat face-first, Harry’s knees bracketing the backs of Eggsy’s thighs. Harry’s bulging crotch pressed against the rapidly dampening cloth clinging to Eggsy’s buttocks.

Bastard.

They’d presented as predicted, Eggsy as an Omega and Harry has an Alpha. Of course they had. Like they’d been doing since their wedding. Nothing new.

Eggsy breathed through his squashed nose, flushed and tired and aching, with a bruised tailbone to add to his list of bruises. “Fuck off,” he growled, and rocked back instinctively when Harry ground that unfairly massive cock against him.

“I intend to.”

“I lasted a whole hour longer than last year.”

“Hm. You might defeat me, next season. If your stamina outlasts mine.”

“You and your legendary stamina can sod off,” Eggsy huffed, his erection chafing against shifting, cottony fabric of his gi as he moved. “How do you stay so motivated to win?”

“Other than imagining the relentless, beautiful grip of your body? By telling myself that I’m too old to carry a pregnancy to term without complications.”

Realization dawned on Eggsy. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh.”

“I could use protection.”

“A smashing idea, if condoms or suppressants actually worked reliably for heats, and if both our children weren’t born despite protection.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eggsy arched so that Harry could pull his pants down, gasping when Harry raked his nails over the swell of Eggsy’s arse. “Still doesn’t make it fair.”

“All our heat-fights are fair. Neither of us is unfairly advantaged.”

Except that Harry _was_ unfairly advantaged, because Eggsy recalled being knotted by him every time they sparred, and the delicious sense-memory of Harry’s hard, unyielding knot inside him, stretching him to breaking-point, inevitably made him weak. It made him surrender. It made him give up, a crucial split-second sooner than he should’ve done. Sooner than he surrendered to anyone else. Not that he surrendered to anyone else.

“My sweet boy,” Harry murmured into Eggsy’s ear, settling above him, “the day you knot me is the day you stop throwing our matches.”

Shit.

So Harry had figured it out.

Fine. Just—fine. Eggsy would’ve been even more humiliated if he weren’t already slick and hot on the inside, his hole clenching helplessly and repeatedly around a frustrating emptiness. He was agonizingly ready, especially with Harry dragging his heavy, swollen cock back and forth across the slippery mess of Eggsy’s crack, catching maddeningly at the rim of his hole, but going no deeper.

The tease. The smug, entitled, awful tease.

“Hurry up,” Eggsy said hoarsely, ignoring what Harry had said, because ignoring it gave him plausible deniability. “Or the kids will be awake and knocking on the dojo’s door, asking if they can join our wrestling game.”

“That is a bit of a mood-killer.”

“Exactly.” Eggsy lifted his arse, resting his head on his crossed arms. “Get to it.”

Harry laughed lowly. His lips brushed the nape of Eggsy’s neck, and Eggsy shivered. “Your wish is my command.”

 

* * *

**fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> ~~You may proceed to kill me now.~~
> 
>  
> 
> Like my writing? Want updates and sneak previews? Follow me on [Tumblr](http://saucefactory.tumblr.com/)! I also run a blog for my [original gay fiction](http://dominiquefrost.tumblr.com/).


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